


does it ever drive you crazy, just how fast the night changes?

by fiveainley_ohmy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bondage, Destiel Wedding, Dom Castiel/Sub Dean Winchester, Dom/sub, Dubious Consent Fantasy, Episode: s04e01 Lazarus Rising, M/M, Post-Canon, Roleplay, Smut, Spanking, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Wedding Night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 13:34:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29419482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiveainley_ohmy/pseuds/fiveainley_ohmy
Summary: *Bugs Bunny meme* I would like to wish Castiel and Dean Winchester a very happy Valentine's Day wedding at the Roadhouse in Heaven.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 5
Kudos: 116





	does it ever drive you crazy, just how fast the night changes?

**Author's Note:**

> Did I make the title of my Destiel fic a reference to a One Direction song? Yes. Yes, I did.

The barn doors flew open and sparks rained from the ceiling lamps as a figure in a long coat slowly crossed the threshold.

Dean whipped out his gun and fired a round in the thing’s chest, but he might as well have been blowing spitballs because it just kept coming.

As it came closer, Dean could see that the thing had taken the form of a handsome man with dark hair, blue eyes, and a slight five o’clock shadow. It came to a halt a mere two feet in front of him, its blue eyes analyzing him, as if it could see into Dean’s very soul. It raised goosebumps on the back of Dean’s neck.

“Who are you?” he growled, hoping to sound menacing.

The thing smiled slightly, cool and confident. “I’m the one who gripped you right and raised you from perdition,” it replied in a low, gravelly voice.

“Yeah...thanks for that.” Dean grabbed the demon blade he had tucked in his waistband and drove it _hard_ into the thing’s chest.

But it didn’t die. It didn’t even _flinch_. Dean’s mouth dropped open in surprise.

The thing looked down casually at the knife handle now protruding from his chest, then back up at Dean, almost in amusement. He wrapped his fingers around the handle and slowly pulled it from his chest, never breaking eye contact, and dropped the knife on the ground, the clattering sound echoing around the barn’s metal walls.

Dean’s stomach did a flip. He clearly wasn’t dealing with a run of the mill demon here. If bullets and blades couldn’t kill this thing, what could?

“We need to talk, Dean,” the thing said.

Dean glared at it. “What are you?”

“My name is Castiel. I’m an angel of the Lord.”

Just then, lightning flashed outside, lighting up the interior of the barn, and Dean could suddenly see the shadow of great wings on the back wall of the barn behind Castiel.

Dean licked his lips, his heart hearing nervously. “And why exactly would an angel rescue _me_ from Hell?”

“Because we have work for you to do.”

“Oh really? Well sorry, shortcake, but I’m not for hire. So stay out of my business.” Dean tried to push past the angel and leave, but Castiel grabbed his wrist with alarming strength.

“And just where do you think you’re going? We have much to discuss, Dean.”

“I told you, I’m not buying what you’re selling, now hands _off_.”

Dean tried to shake him off, but suddenly Castiel was pushing him backwards and pinning him to the wall. Dean felt as though the breath had been knocked out of him, even though he wasn’t in any pain. “You should show me some respect,” Castiel growled, his intense blue eyes seeming to radiate with danger. “I dragged you out of Hell. I can throw you back in.”

Dean swallowed. “Well maybe you should _make_ me respect you,” he taunted.

Castiel raised an eyebrow. “Yes. I think I’ll do just that. You don’t seem to know your place, Dean, but I assure you, once this night is through, you’ll understand _exactly_ who’s in charge here.”

Castiel touched Dean’s forehead with two fingers, and suddenly Dean was lying on his back on a bed, hands bound above his head. “Hey!” he shouted. “Let me go, or I’ll-”

“You’ll what?” Castiel was towering over him, removing his trenchcoat. He tossed it aside and began loosening the blue tie around his neck. “As you can see, I have all the power here. You would do well to remember that.”

Dean grit his teeth and tugged at his bonds. They felt as strong as steel cables, yet they were soft and smooth against his wrists, like silk. “Once I get out of here, I’m gonna kick your ass, angel or not.”

“What a filthy mouth. You clearly need something to occupy it.” Castiel, now dressed down to his shirtsleeves, which he had rolled up to his elbows, stroked his thumb over Dean’s lips. “Open up,” he commanded.

And Dean, to his own surprise, parted his lips so the angel could slip his thumb inside his mouth. Dean found himself sucking on it. What the hell was the angel doing to him?!

“I am doing nothing, Dean. You are acting of your own accord.” Castiel smirked. Oh great, Captain Blue Eyes could read his friggin’ mind too, awesome! “Perhaps you’re more attuned to your submissive nature than I gave you credit for.”

Dean whimpered slightly as Castiel removed his thumb. Suddenly the angel crawled onto the bed, hovering over his body. Dean’s breath hitched. He felt a hand slip underneath his back and slide down... “Hey!” he yelped. “Watch the merchandise!”

“Just looking for your...ah.” Castiel pulled Dean’s trusty pocket knife from his back pocket. “I hope you’re not overly fond of this shirt...”

“Aw, come on!” Dean groaned as Castiel sliced his way up the front of Dean’s shirt to reveal his chest.

Castiel eyed his torso and smirked approvingly. “Very nice. Though I suppose I must give the credit to myself, since I’m the one who rebuilt you, atom by atom. I know _every inch_ of your body, Dean Winchester. Every little secret, every weak point, every place to touch that will drive you _mad_ with pleasure.”

Dean began to sweat nervously, and he felt his cock swell in his jeans.

“Yes, Dean. You’re beginning to realize who really has the power here.”

Castiel leaned forward and lightly touched his lips to Dean’s throat. “Your heart is racing, Dean,” he breathed as he mouthed a trail of kisses down his neck. “Did you know that when an angel claims a human soul, it leaves a mark?” Castiel covered Dean’s left shoulder with his hand. “Right here,” Castiel said. “This is where I marked you. This proves that you are mine and mine alone.”

Dean choked. “Y-you can’t do that!”

“I can, and I have. Fight me all you wish, my little human, but it is an irrefutable fact that you belong to me.” Castiel smirked at Dean, stroking the back of his hand over Dean’s cheek. “A fact you will come to realize by the time we’re through tonight.”

Dean’s mouth fell open in shock, giving Castiel the opportunity to lean in and kiss him deeply, possessively plundering Dean’s mouth with his tongue. The angel’s lips, his breath, seemed to crackle with electricity, some kind of holy energy that emanated from his very being. Dean was too shocked to do anything but kiss back. He let out an involuntary moan and his eyes fluttered closed as the angel made all the fight in him fly away.

“That’s it, Dean,” Castiel growled, grinding against him. Dean could feel a sizable bulge to match his own. “Your body is responding to me. It wants to give itself over. I’d advise you not to fight it.”

Castiel then stepped away, and Dean’s flesh screamed for him to come back. He jerked against his bonds, breath hitching. “Relax, my little human,” said Castiel with a knowing smile as he started to unbutton his white shirt. “Just making myself a bit more _comfortable_.”

Dean watched hungrily as Castiel peeled away the shirt to reveal a fairly well toned chest. He then kicked off his shoes and socks, undid his belt, and let his pants and underwear drop to the floor.

“Whoa,” Dean whispered, staring at the angel’s hard cock.

“I’m glad you approve,” Castiel chuckled. “Now it’s your turn.”

Castiel crawled up the bed, icy blue eyes radiating danger, sending an electric jolt of thrill up Dean’s spine. Oh, he should be very afraid of this entity, if he were smart, and not at all turned on. But Dean had never been the smart Winchester brother.

Castiel tossed Dean’s boots over his shoulder without a care, and his sock quickly followed suit. Then he unbuckled Dean’s belt with ease, and peeled the jeans and underwear down his legs. Castiel smirked at Dean’s cock. “What have we here?” he said.

“I thought angels were supposed to be _good_ ,” Dean said. “Not...like this.”

“I can be very good, Dean. I’ll show you just how good I can be...if you are good for me.” Castiel wrapped his hand around Dean and started to stroke him. Dean groaned with relief at the angel’s warm, firm grip. “I am the one who rescued you from the Pit, _boy_. I am a Seraph, the captain of a whole legion of angels. You will show me the respect I deserve.”

“Whatever Heaven wants with me, I’m not interested,” Dean said through gritted teeth, trying not to give into the pleasures the angel’s hands were providing. As promised, the angel did know _precisely_ where to touch him to drive him wild. “You winged dicks can eat it.”

Suddenly Dean found himself on his knees on the mattress, face down and hands still tied to the headboard. More angel mojo. Great. “Still haven’t learned your lesson, hmm?” tsked Castiel. “I told you you’d realize who was in charge here before we left this room. I tried positive reinforcement, but perhaps you’ll respond better to punishment.”

Without warning there was a sharp _crack_ against Dean’s bare ass, and he cried out in surprise. That didn’t _feel_ like a hand. Then it happened again and Dean realized what that familiar sensation was: a belt.

Castiel was beating his ass with _his own belt._

Try as he might to stay quiet, Dean hollered with every brutal smack of the supple leather against his asscheeks. He could feel his ass turning red and throbbing with heat. What was worse, his dick was so fucking hard, it was leaking between his legs. He’d always gotten a thrill out of being taken control of in the bedroom, and a little pain certainly didn’t hurt.

“Look at how beautifully your flesh responds to my touch, Dean,” Castiel sighed, running his hand over Dean’s red ass and massaging the tender area, making Dean unwillingly moan. “Your body knows who is its master, even your stubborn soul resists me. That’s alright. I do enjoy a challenge.”

“So this is just a game then?” Dean huffed. “Humans are just playthings to you?”

“No, humans aren’t my playthings. Just you specifically.”

Dean blushed hard at that, and his dick pulsed.

Suddenly he felt a thumb run down the crack of his ass and stroke over his hole. “This is where I will take you, Dean,” Castiel said, almost like a promise. “I will open you up, then claim my spoils as is my right.”

“You don’t have the right to _claim_ me,” Dean growled. “I’m not your property.”

Castiel chuckled darkly, sending a chill up Dean’s spine. “You have always belonged to me, Righteous Man. Who do you think has watched over you all this time?”

“Great, so you’re a possessive creep _and_ a stalker,” Dean grunted as a hot, wet tongue suddenly swept over his hole. He yelped in surprise.

“Through every scrape, every tussle, it was I who kept you from harm. You didn’t see me, but I was there, every step of the way. You would’ve died years ago had I not shielded you. You’ve always been mine, Dean. And deep down, you know it.”

Dean bit his lip as Castiel pulled his asscheeks apart and started expertly eating him out. This was _beyond_ unfair; how could a freakin’ angel be this good at sex?

Soon Dean felt a lubed up finger push against his hole and he instinctively tensed up. “Open up for me, Dean,” said the angel, voice smooth as butter, and some part of Dean wanted to obey him. “You don’t have to fight anymore, not here. You can surrender, Dean. The fight is over.”

And like that, Dean felt something release inside him, like air being let out of a tire. “Yes,” he murmured, his body going lax, allowing Castiel to push his finger inside him.

“Good boy, Dean,” the angel cooed, curling his finger and making Dean gasp. “Allow me to show you all the pleasure you’ve never known.”

Dean cried out as Castiel’s fingers started massaging over his prostate mercilessly. “OhfuckohfuckohCassssss-”

Suddenly he came without warning, like a goddamn fifteen year old getting an over-the-pants job for the first time, hips bucking and Dean crying out and holy Toledo he hoped to high Heaven that there was no one in the nearby vicinity to hear his screams. Castiel refused to let up, stroking over that sweet spot and drawing out his climax into a ceaseless cadenza of pleasure. At some point Dean’s arms buckled and he collapsed onto his chest, panting. “Cas...please...” he moaned, almost a sob.

Finally the angel slid his fingers out of Dean’s hole. “I daresay that was the hardest you’ve ever come in your life,” Castiel murmured, soothingly stroking Dean’s back. “Do you understand now, my love? You’re mine, aren’t you.” It wasn’t a question.

Dean let out a muffled “yes” against the pillow.

“Good. Catch your breath. I’m not finished with you yet.”

Once Dean was breathing semi-normally, and his muscles didn’t feel quite so gelatinous, suddenly Dean found himself kneeling on a pillow on the floor, hands bound behind his back. Castiel was looking down at him, casually stroking his cock. He gently traced Dean’s jaw with his fingertips, giving Dean goosebumps all over again.

“You put on quite a pretty show when you came for me, Dean,” Castiel said. “It’s a shame I didn’t get the chance to see your face twisted with pleasure...but there’s time. I should punish you for coming without my permission...”

Dean’s breath caught in his throat.

“But you are new to this. You’ve never known pleasure at the hands of an angel. It’s understandable that you would be overwhelmed. So I won’t punish you...this time. I did promise pleasure.”

“Th-thank you,” Dean said, bowing his head.

Castiel chuckled, bending down to kiss the top of Dean’s scalp. “However, I do expect something in return. Would you like to suck my cock, Dean? I’m not asking, you _will_ do it, but I want to hear you admit to what a little cockslut you are.”

“Yes, yes, Castiel, I’m a slut, I want your cock in my mouth, fuck my face, _please_ ,” Dean begged.

“How can I refuse when you beg like that?” Castiel unzipped his black slacks and pulled his hard cock out of his boxer briefs. “Open your mouth, Dean.”

Dean closed his eyes and obediently opened up, letting Castiel slide inside, his shaft sliding over his tongue. Dean closed his lips around him and started sucking. “Yes, such a good mouth,” sighed Castiel, fisting Dean’s hair encouragingly. “You were made to please me, my Righteous Man. You will serve Heaven second and me first.”

Dean moaned in agreement around the angel’s cock, bobbing his head enthusiastically. He dedicated himself to figuring out what made Castiel tick, what made him groan or pull harder on Dean’s hair. Fuck, he loved that, he was such a slut for the pain and the pleasure he derived from it. Something in him still wanted to fight being made into this angel’s bitch, but he loved being down on his knees and taking it far too much to resist.

After several minutes of embarrassingly loud slurping and sucking noises, Castiel tugged Dean off of him. “I don’t wish to orgasm yet,” the angel said, stroking Dean’s cheekbone with his thumbnail, scraping him just a little. “However tempted I am to spill down your throat or find my release on your lovely face, I intend to claim you properly.”

One final tap of Castiel’s fingers to Dean’s forehead, and Dean was back to the first position, on his back on the bed with his wrists bound above his head. Castiel was now completely naked, between his legs, oily fingers pressing against Dean’s hole. “You’re going to feel so good around me, my love. Your brand new body opening for its maker, my perfect receptacle, the sheath to my sword.”

Dean was tempted to roll his eyes at the cliched analogy, but he was about to get good and fucked and he’d much rather do that than risk another spanking or worse, being left with this raging hard-on without coming. Castiel would probably do that, the authoritative bastard.

Castiel eased Dean open with careful, teasing fingers, edging his sweet spot but never rubbing quite where Dean wanted him to. Dean whined, trying to grind back on the three digits buried to the knuckle inside. “Please,” he groaned.

Castiel slapped his flank without even blinking. “You’ll take what you’re given, Dean. You’re lucky I’m feeling so generous as to give you a second orgasm.”

Dean panted, but didn’t whine or beg again.

“Good boy,” Castiel smirked. “I believe you’re ready for me.”

He slowly pulled out his fingers and positioned the tip of his cock at Dean’s entrance.

“This is just the beginning, Dean. The beginning of our new life together.”

Then he thrust inside and Dean cried out in ecstasy.

* * *

Still basking in the afterglow, Dean hummed contentedly into the side of Cas’s neck. “Dude,” he mumbled, slightly woozy from his intense orgasm. “Best wedding night _ever_.”

Cas giggled warmly, coaxing Dean to kiss him. “I can’t believe roleplaying as ourselves when we first met is the scenario you chose for our first time together as a married couple.”

“Hey, if I’d left it up to you we’d probably had boring, cutesy, vanilla sex with like...rose petals on the bed and candles and shit.”

“What’s wrong with that?” Cas said, sounding defensive.

Dean laughed. “Nothing, babe, nothing at all. I just like to mix it up occasionally, you know?”

“I’m not exactly _vanilla_ myself, Dean. Not all the time, anyway. I just like making you feel good. Is that so wrong?”

Dean blushed at that, thinking about all the times before he and Cas had truly, honest to goodness, _made love_. “No, I...I like it when we do the...lovey dovey stuff. But I thought this would be like...ironic.”

“...you wanted to have sex for the sake of _irony?”_ Cas said disbelievingly.

“Well I, no, okay, I’m not explaining it well. I was thinking about how, all those years ago, we met, and I _hated_ you. I thought you were a stuck up dick with a stick up his ass. But now here we are, all...married and shit. It’s...it’s crazy, isn’t it? How far we’ve come.”

Cas smiled, cuddling Dean closer. “Yes, I think I see your point. Isn’t it ironic.”

“Ugh, don’t quote Morissette in bed, that’s the opposite of sexy.”

“But Dean...I’m here to remind you of the mess you left when you went away.”

_“Stoppppppppp.”_

Cas grinned.

“But seriously though, Cas, if you’d have done _that_ when we first met...damn, things might’ve been a whole lot different between us.”

“If I’d been dominating and possessive and made you sexually submit to me when we first met face to face? Yes, I’d say things certainly would’ve been different.”

Dean snorted, nudging Cas’s thigh with his knee. “I was into you, even back then. I didn’t want to admit it, being as you were such a prick back then and all, but man I also kinda wanted you to just bend me over a table and go to town.”

“I can do that, if you’re still interested.”

“Maybe in the morning, smartass,” Dean said, kissing him. “You wore me out. Which is insane, since I’m not even supposed to feel tired in Heaven.”

“After breakfast then?”

“Mmm, yeah. Pancakes and bacon, then back-blowing sex.”

“Our first morning as husbands.” Cas smiled, eyes crinkling at the corners.

“Yeah,” Dean murmured, drifting off to sleep in his angel’s arms. “Husbands. Love you so much, Cas.”

“I love you too,” Cas whispered in his sleeping husband’s ear. “Forever and ever.”


End file.
